Reflections
by angw
Summary: Sometimes you need to take a moment for yourself to reflect and gain another perspective...Tag for The Eye


Disclaimer – Stargate Atlantis does not belong to me. This story is not written for profit just enjoyment.

A/N – Thanks to Pranksta and Tazmy for the beta. Any remaining errors are mine.

_There is a kind of beauty in imperfection. – Conrad Hall_

He feels the water wind a random path down his back, joining the puddle below. It dribbles from his hair and runs into his eyes. He leans against the wall and breathes in, sinking to submerge himself in the sea of water on the floor. Shivering he closes his eyes and thinks of the past forty-eight hours. When the sun had been shining and sparkling off the rippling water. When the wind had gently tugged at his clothing, embracing his skin. When there had been more...time.

Tears mix with the fallen water and the blood trailing down his arm. He winces and watches it quickly float away. He feels the memories leaking out of him just like the blood. Unfortunately, they can not be diluted so easily. He lets his head drop to his chest and draws his knees up to his body. If he was able to get up he would, but he doesn't have the energy to leave. He sits there under the torrent and lets the memories rain over him like the deluge from the sky.

He isn't too sure when the rain stopped. Gone is the loud pounding and wind that had whipped about him. He flexes his shoulders experimentally. He doesn't like the feel of his clothes as he attempts to unfold his arms and stretch his legs. The fabric clings in uncomfortable places but he can feel the warmth of the sun and when he cracks his eyes open he watches the thin flow of water run from his clothes.

With a groan, he attempts to rise. He almost slips and puts out a hand to steady himself. Fresh blood and pain blossoms from his arm. Ignoring it, he grasps onto the railing and clings to it as he rights himself. He peers over the edge and looks at the sea far below. The water is no longer churning and smashing into the walls. It is calm and peaceful.

A reflecting light momentarily blinds him, until a cloud obscures the radiant source. He lowers his rising hand and peers at the tall spires. He places his hand on the smooth surface. Atlantis is made of smooth edges not sharp, jagged ones.

He doesn't often stop to look at the simple things. He is much too busy. After the hectic pace of the past couple of days he needs to reflect. To take a moment. With a wistful smile he stares at the beauty. Scientific principles can be applied to everything - from the architecture to the control crystals. The Ancients had made this place close to perfection.

He demands nothing less than perfection from himself and others. Unfortunately, all humans, even the good old Ancients, have failings. Imperfections. And because he demands more of himself, when the failures happened they are all the more damaging.

He slowly turns at the sound of footsteps. "There you are, Rodney. Did you forget you had an appointment with me this morning?"

There's a purple bruise on Carson's face.

"No. No. I just lost track of the time." He whirls his hands about until he winces. He'd forgotten the offending bandaged appendage.

Carson studies him before beckoning Rodney to follow, his eyes narrowing at his friend's disheveled appearance.

"What were you doing?" Carson asks.

"Thinking. I have been known to do that on occasion." Rodney groans, as he stiffly follows the doctor. His legs are like heavy logs, unwillingly moving.

"Of anything in particular?" Carson probes.

Rodney can see the man mentally cataloguing the tests he's going to perform on him. He mutters under his breath, "What is this, the Spanish inquisition?"

Carson steadies him as he starts to lean towards the wall. "I'm concerned when a patient fails to report to the infirmary, after an injury, and then attempts to apply first aid to himself." He points at the bandage that has begun to unravel on his arm.

Rodney protests as Carson continues, "But I worry more when my friend is missing and looks like he has stayed out in the rain all night. You know you could have made your injuries worse? What were you thinking you silly git?"

Rodney stops protesting and gasps, "I'm fine…wait, do you think I've caught the Atlantian flu? No..no…no I've got too much work to do. We have to repair the northwest tower. It will have flooded. That wall was flimsy to begin with… "

Carson shakes his head as they shuffle towards a transporter. As he continues to talk, Rodney casts a side glance at Carson and smiles briefly. "Thanks."

Carson looks concerned, then smiles and pats Rodney's uninjured arm. "Come on, we'll have you patched up in no time." Carson presses a location on the map. "And afterwards you can have a nice little chat with Kate"

As the doors close Rodney doesn't see Atlantis and its perfections but rather feels the warmth radiating from the man beside him. His friend.

Maybe being flawed isn't such a big deal.


End file.
